The Iron Throne (One Shots/Reader Inserts)

Sandor Clegane (the Hound) x Queen!Reader

You rushed through the halls of the palace, heart racing as you went. Varys stepped out in front of you, attempting to stop and ask you if you were alright... You almost pushed the poor man right off of his feet!

A raven had arrived this morning from a trusted ally of your house, all the way from Castle Black. A warning.

All you could hear was the blood rushing around your skull, you felt sick to your stomach. It was getting harder and harder to breathe.

The warning had been of a traitor amongst your council. A traitor that ordered the execution of your father, and has made an attempt upon your life... Several attempts on your life, unbeknownst to you.

Right now, you didn't know who you could trust. How did they attempt to execute you? By blade, or poison? By pushing you from a height? What stopped them?

You felt darkness creeping in as you realised that you were alone.

You had to stay alone, in order to survive.

Danger was around every corner of the castle walls, evil eyes watching you as you quickly strode through the halls.

You were panicking, and it was obvious. You had never been in a situation like this before. You had fought out on he battlefield and in the streets of the Capital to take the Iron Throne, and yes, people were trying to kil you, left, right and center... But you had always been able to identify who it was that wanted you dead. Never had you had somebody on the inside attempt to kill you.

You were fully aware that you were taking this badly, but how else were you to take it?! With a smile? Oh yes, I am incredibly overjoyed to have a backstabbing traitor posing as a loyal advisor! Your hands were shaking, knees were weak, palms were clammy.

You had no idea where it was that you were storming off to, but you would know when you arrived. Each step brought the realisation that you were not going to be able to face this alone. That's what Ned Stark did, and look where that got him. You needed somebody to confide in, rely on and be protected by.

Varys? Very wise, yes, but not one you would trust with a blade to defend your life.

One of your personal guards? Ah, yes, (y/n), what a brilliant idea. Let's just invite a man with a massive sword who may or may not be trying to kill you into a room with you, alone. What could possibly go wrong?

Any member of the council? Ah, yes, so they can poison you.

Soon, you pushed open the doors to he gardens, shocked by the rush of warm air that greeted you.

Your struggle to breathe was an ever increasing problem.

The stress of your job was bad enough, without something like this! Joffrey left the kingdoms in complete disarray, uprisings across the kindoms against the crown were a frequent event, all because they thought you were going to be another monarch like him.

You slumped down onto a stone bench and sighed, slamming your head into your hands, grabbing fistfulls of your hair. The empty, nervous sickness remained at the pit of your stomach. You fought back tears as the pain in your head worsened and your chest tightened.

"My Queen?" A familiar, gruff voice was approaching. Your head shot up in the direction of the voice. It was Sandor, your personal guard, also, your personal favourite. You offered a weak smile, resting a cheek on your hands as you gazed at him. "My Queen, what troubles you?"

It was that moment you realised that the person you could trust with this information was standing right in front of you. You exhaled loudly, still trembling, rubbing your hands over your tired eyes once more.